


Mysteries of the Modern Woman and other 21st Century Conundrums

by alba17



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Fish out of Water, Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three ficlets in which Ichabod struggles with the realities of 21st century life and Abbie tries to educate him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mysteries of the Modern Woman, Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompts at fic_promptly (DW) and comment_fic (LJ).
> 
> Now there's a podfic! [**[Podfic]Mysteries of the Modern Woman and other 21st Century Conundrums**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1043580) by [**jelazakazone**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jelazakazone)  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichabod is confused by modern women's clothing habits.

“Lieutenant, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Ichabod said. He paused.

“Go ahead,” Abbie replied, looking at him expectantly. They were settled in their favorite booth at the diner, waiting for Abbie’s coffee and Ichabod’s tea to arrive.

“Well, it’s just that…I was wondering when women stopped wearing skirts.”

Abbie laughed, a full-throated laugh that showed her teeth. “Oh, Crane. We haven’t stopped wearing skirts.”

“But you always wear trousers.”

“Well, for one thing, my uniform has pants and that’s much more practical than a skirt for a police officer, don’t you think? Kind of hard to run after perps in hose and heels.”

“Er…’perps’?”

“Short for perpetrators. You know, suspects, criminals.”

Ichabod nodded. “Ah.” Then he crinkled his forehead. “Hose? In my time, it’s men who wear hose.”

Abbie sighed. “I meant pantyhose.”

“ _Panty_ -hose? Are you referring to underthings? This hardly seems a topic for polite conversation.”

“No, no, pantyhose are something women wear on their legs when they wear dresses or skirts. Like tights?”

Ichabod shook his head. “Now you’re confusing me even more. Are you sure we’re not talking about underthings?”

With a chuckle, Abbie said, “Definitely not. Anyway, _moving on,_ I do wear dresses and skirts, just not when I’m working. Mostly to go out.” She pointed at a woman walking by on the sidewalk outside. “Like that.”

Ichabod carefully observed the woman as she passed and his cheeks turned pink. “Oh. My. And this is something that respectable women wear? With your entire leg displayed for everyone to see?”

Abbie raised her eyebrows and nodded. “It’s perfectly normal, I assure you.”

“Well. I’m not sure how men get anything done with such distractions.”

Abbie rolled her eyes. “They manage somehow.”

“On the other hand,” Ichabod mused, “trousers on a woman are so very different than trousers on a man. There’s so much more,” he gestured in the air, “that is to say…,” his hands denoted curvy lines, “the way they fit you is so different, I never imagined…” He caught the look on Abbie’s face. “I think I’d better stop right there.”

“Yes, I think you better.”

Ichabod averted his gaze and looked around anxiously for the waitress. “Shouldn’t our beverages be here by now?”


	2. Mysteries of the Modern Woman, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abbie takes offense when Ichabod tries to be chivalrous.

"What was that?" Abbie’s face looked like thunder as she stamped into the room where Ichabod was struggling with one of the police station vending machines.

“I have no idea to what you are referring,” Ichabod said before recommencing his pummeling of the beastly inanimate object that refused to dispense his snack. He gave it a good piercing look but that didn’t work either.

“The sad thing is, you probably don’t.” Abbie took a deep breath. “What I’m talking about is you jumping in front of me when that suspect drew his gun last night.” Her eyes shot flames at Ichabod. Between the metallic monstrosity to his left and the fuming ball of ire that was the current incarnation of Lieutenant Abbie Mills, Ichabod preferred purgatory. “Unlike you, I am a trained police officer,” she continued. “I know what to do in those situations. Do not…and I repeat, do not ever do that again. Are we clear?” 

It was remarkable how Abbie appeared more imposing that she actually was. Ichabod drew himself up to his full height and looked at her down his nose in a way that recalled the ancestral portraits in his childhood home. “Miss Mills. I am sure you are well trained in the processes of law enforcement and I apologize for any offense you may have taken by my actions. It was merely my natural reaction to a situation in which a lady is threatened with bodily harm. If you prefer that I refrain from such protective behavior in the future, I will do so, although I cannot fathom why you would rather rely solely on your own devices. I am your friend, you know.”

They locked gazes for a moment and to Ichabod’s relief, Abbie’s face softened. She put a hand on his arm. “You are, aren’t you?” Yet she still stared at him hard. “Just make sure you do what I say when we’re in the field. And don’t get in the way of any guns. They work a lot better and a lot faster than they did in your time. I don’t want anybody getting hurt on my watch.” Her ferocity melted somewhat, she patted his arm fondly. “Especially not my friends. And anyways, I need you to help me solve this headless horseman mystery. So no getting shot until that’s done. You hear?” She wagged her index finger at him.

“I hear you, Lieutenant.” Ichabod relaxed and grinned at her. “I shall try to restrain my protective impulses in the face of your modern guns, which I myself have noted are highly effective.”

“Now watch and learn.” Abbie cocked her hip and bumped it into the vending machine in a certain way. To Ichabod’s surprise, a bag of potato chips fell down to the dispensing area. “That’s how you do it, Crane. It takes a highly trained professional to handle these machines.” Her serious face broke into a laugh. She pulled out the chips and tossed them to Ichabod. “You can make it up to me by buying me a snack.”

She instructed Ichabod how to punch in the code and which coins to feed the machine. “Okay, now you try,” she said. 

Ichabod cocked an eyebrow and looked at the machine with suspicion.

“You can do it.”

He raised his arms and tentatively wiggled his hips while trying to maintain his dignity.

“Just the way I did.”

He positioned himself next to the machine exactly as Abbie had, then bumped it with his hip in the same manner. Miraculously, the package of Cheetos fell down. “Marvelous,” he said, handing her the snack and laughing.

“See, you did it. We’ll make a modern man of you yet.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Ichabod said, thinking of the infinite number of machines people used in their daily lives and how few of them he understood how to use. 

“Just try to curb your overprotective impulses, all right?”

“Yes, Lieutenant. I had difficulty understanding women in the 18th century and it seems women of this century are even more inscrutable.”

“Just treat us like people, that’s all,” Abbie said.

“That’s all?”

“Yep.


	3. Brave New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Politics ain't what it used to be.

Abbie repeatedly listened to her phone, then punched at the buttons, over and over. 

Ichabod scrunched his forehead as he watched. “Lieutenant, what are you doing, pray tell?”

Abbie sighed. “It’s these damn political calls. I get tons of them.”

“Political calls? What do you mean?”

“You know, they want money, all of them.”

“Well, I _don’t_ know. Money?”

Abbie looked at him. “I forget you don’t know. In our time, politicians spend most of their time raising money.”

Ichabod look askance at her. “I’m afraid, my dear Miss Mills, that’s very hard to believe.”

“Believe it. Money is the most important part of our political system.”

“I somehow don’t think this is what Messrs. Franklin, Jefferson, Washington et al. had in mind.”

Abbie blew out a breath. “No, I don’t think so either. But this is where we are.”

“In my time, men spoke of ideas, the aspirations of a new nation.”

“Yeah, well, now it’s all about who’s got the most money.”

“Really, Lieutenant, I’m most disappointed. Is this the America my old friends fought and died for?”

Abbie gave him a rueful look. “Probably not. But we try, even though the deck might be stacked against us. We just keep shouldering on.”

“This is most disconcerting, Miss Mills. Most disconcerting.”

“It certainly is. I hope it’ll change some day soon.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic]Mysteries of the Modern Woman and other 21st Century Conundrums](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043580) by [readbyjela (jelazakazone)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelazakazone/pseuds/readbyjela)




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